Never fucked like this
But I smoke blunts like this
People ask Why you pull stunts like this?
'Cause I believe in doing what I got' a
A lot' a people don't understand nada
The Mic burns
You was at
It turn's to a slaughter
You wanna think about chilling the fuck out
You all gonna Top Allah, Pop collar
Niggas, Latin Thungs
All my family love barillas
Beginners get pushed to back of the pack
Invented and lend out, without not a tech
You're on the top of the game
But you work on a name till one day
To put us in the walk of fame
Don't call a name to recall the fame
Eventually Dru is in the Hall of Fame
You know what the deal is
You know what the heal is
You know who the Real is
You know what my skill is

I get mental
This ain't no pad and a pencil
Throw the microphone
My homey get tensed up
I tag the cheque, like I got nothing to lose (That's right)
I test myself, just shut up and proof
That C-Y-P-R-E-S-S
Got you funky, while I'm real deaf
Put it to the sess, and you will confess
Soul Assassins is the best
Check it homeboy, got to spot cracking (crackin)
Six LP, from that ThugDogLatin
Turn the heat up, and keep it hot
Always give ya mo', and then thank
We got to freak the Hip Hop and the hot ride
I'm on to make shows and can't hide
Had first 'self titled', became an Idol
*Spanish* in a Sub town barrio